Guardian
by Rurouni-Wolf
Summary: AU In the shinobi world, not all demons have tails. And just sometimes, guardians are the worst of all. To see underneath the underneath of the 'spiral' is to change the essence of fate. A 'what if?Naruto!family' story.
1. Chapter 1

Add some of the crappiest days of my life to listening to depressing music, shake--not stir--and you end up with this.

God save us.

Yes, I'm taking a break from _Once Upon Tomorrow_, simply because I refuse to write on it when I'm in this mood. I'm just--well, _I'm not happy_, and I won't subject my pet-story to my depression/angst.

So I wrote this instead.

Did it help? A little. Oh, just to let you know, don't let that little 'owari' fool you, it's just signalling the end of the chapter. The _real_ 'owari' will be in **bold **and _italics. _

R & R, it makes me happy.

-----RW

**_

* * *

_**

**_Guardian_**

guardian-- gar-de-an;

**guard·i·an** (gärd-n)  
_n._

One that guards, watches over, or protects.

_Law._ One who is legally responsible for the care and management of the person or property of an incompetent or a minor.

* * *

It was lonely here. 

The scope of its infinity was not lost on the boy. He had grown, while not used to it per se, _familiar_ with all of its cruel emptiness.

He would have cried for apathy, if he had known what apathy was.

As it was, at three years old he didn't know nearly enough about the world to understood _apathy,_ or _cruelty_, or **_hate_**, not unless it glared him in the face, or looked past him like he didn't even exist.

Or when it beat him senseless into the ground.

Still, if he pretended he wasn't tired, or dirty, or hungry, or bruised more than he'd like to be—life wasn't too bad.

He was cold.

There was no warmth—no sun, no moon, no stars—only blinding white cold that never ceased. For him, it was always the dead of winter, even in the spring.

He had wished, once, for a smile—loving, genuine, his—just once.

Just once. He didn't need it more than that.

Still--

It would have been nice.

* * *

It was cold tonight. 

She sighed, and cocked her head to the side. Tonight, even the wind was as bitter as the destroyed dreams of what-could(should)-have-been, as biting as the teeth of--

No. She would not think of that tonight. Kyuubi was gone, sealed into a child, and she could go on with her life just as it had been three years prior.

Still--

She wish her father could have been there. Her mother didn't talk about him much, the little girl didn't even know his name, but she knew her mother had loved him very, very much.

At eight years old, she had gained a somewhat infamous reputation for being a "guardian." She had been in the Hokage's office more times in her brief life than some jounin. She knew his speech, kind but frustrated, by heart.

"You really mustn't do things like this, little guardian. You should go to an adult and tell them what is happening rather than try to handle things yourself. Someday, you may get into serious trouble with that protective streak in you, and that would make me very sad. So—will you at least promise me to _try_ to control your... er... _motherly_ instincts?"

And yet next week she was always, once again, in his office.

Sandaime Hokage had pretty much given up trying to break her of it; after that incident with the Grass Country diplomat's son (who he amusedly remembered as a spoiled, violent _brat_), he had insisted that she promise to stay away from anyone visiting Konoha.

He grinned, though; after she had gotten through with the boy, he'd been considerate, polite, and a perfect gentleman.

It had only taken her five hours.

There was a time, though, that he chuckled and shook his head over:

She was one of the _very few_ people who had injured Morino Ibiki and lived.

Ibiki had been having a rough week of it, and had been venting on some chuunin. If he remembered correctly, one of the girls was even in tears. Anyways, Ibiki had been having his sadistic fun when all of a sudden a little girl, hands on her hips, demanded that he "stop picking on them." Ibiki, being Ibiki, had smirked and told her to take on somebody more her own size, he'd already eaten enough little girls who stuck their noses into matters that weren't their business.

She bit him.

The scar was still there, too, perfect little white teeth marks that tingled every time she came around. After _the incident_ (which had amused the poor shinobi assigned to him for _weeks_) he hadn't tried to vent his frustration on anything living.

Instead, he just quietly destroyed things.

* * *

Perhaps it was his hair. 

Perhaps it was the golden sun of that mop of unruly, dirty hair that caught her attention.

Perhaps it was how his gaunt, waifish figure looked so forlorn in the snow.

Perhaps it was the eyes of a lonely child, eyes of brilliant blue, that reminded her of the father that would never return.

Perhaps it was fate.

For a moment, the entire world slowed down as she walked over. She was smiling, a kind smile that was warm (_notcoldorhateorapathy)_ and handed him a lollipop.

"Hello, little one. How are you?" she bent down, ruffling his hair, ignoring how it came away oily and damp. Wide blue eyes blinked up at her in disbelief.

In a sudden, unbearable need for affection, he launched himself into a hug. She slipped and fell back into the snow, the little boy holding tightly onto her.

"HEY! THE MONSTER'S ATTACKING A LITTLE GIRL!" someone yelled.

Suddenly, there was a mob, and fists and cruel words were falling, and the little boy was still fiercely holding onto the only kindness he had ever received.

And, in the midst of it all, there was a demon awoken named _guardian_.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

For an eight-year-old girl, with no training and only an unbreakable heart that sought to protect, she fought like one possessed, grabbing the little boy by the hand and running off, pulling him into her arms as she ran.

Panting, she tripped and landed in the snow at the feet of a haggard woman in her early thirties.

"Mama! You have to help--"

A slap echoed in the streets amidst the silently falling snow.

"That child is a _demon_! Leave him in the street, with the other _trash_!"

Disbelief filled her eyes, as she slowly stood up, the little boy awkwardly in her arms.

"No, _mother_. _He is a baby who desperately needs help._"

Horror filled her mother's eyes, a hand flying up to her mouth, tears filling them. A mother's love and instinct to protect her (_their_) only child and all the hatred she held for this boy.

The mob came around the corner, carrying bamboo brooms and other makeshift weapons, although their frenzy and hate was deadlier for that three-year-old than any tangible weapons.

Her mother, torn between her child and the crowd, looked down upon her daughter with cold eyes.

"You must choose, _now_, between this _monster_ and your _family_."

The girl was absolutely still, as still as death, as all the horror entered her eyes, all her fear of abandonment surfacing, and for a moment she was a terrified child watching her father die again. An infinity of unsaid conversations, of hidden hate passed between the two, and she slowly understood what she had felt since her father died. Her mother hated her, resented her because before her it had been just the two of them.

"I... I choose the one who needs me most."

Her high, young voice was low and quiet but unmistakably clear.

"_He_ needs me, mother, like you never have. To you—to you, I am like a painful past that you must live with every day."

The torment in each other's eyes—mother and daughter, one last time—reflected, and the mother knew that the girl had seen the hatred she held for herself, her daughter, and for the man that had died.

"Then you are no longer a part of our family. You are _not my daughter._"

A brief nod, a heavy burden falling off and another, possibly even heavier one assuming its place. Grabbing the boy even more firmly into her arms, she ran like she never had before, chanting in her mind that she was speed, she was the _wind_--

* * *

An eye blinked at her as she sped past, arms shaking from holding the boy, legs screaming in agony (_shewasn'ttrainedforthis!_) and she took the stairs two at a time. Not daring to risk a glance behind her, not just afraid of what she'd see but also of losing her precarious balance, she collapsed in front of the Hokage's office. The two jounin shared mildly alarmed glances with each other—the guardian and the Kyuubi holder, clinging to each other? 

Stranger things had happened.

Damn if they could remember one though.

"Ho—Hokage," she desperately panted, forcing her aching legs to hold her as the silent shinobi swung open the door, sticking their heads in.

"Hokage-sama."

Jerking their head down at the girl shaking from exhaustion, still holding the boy, Sandaime raised an eyebrow, asking "what is this?"

Shrugging, they exited, though he knew well enough that they would be listening. Ever since she'd taken down Morino, she'd become something of a hero to the chuunin and a living legend of the jounin. So, in that instance, they could be somewhat protective of the girl.

"Well, what's this, little guardian?" Sandaime asked, genuinely concerned.

Dirty-blonde hair fell into calm blue-grey eyes, eyes that were suddenly older than he had last seen them.

Sandaime was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. Wise, calm eyes waited for her to speak.

"_How long?_"

Those were the last two words that he ever expected to hear; the words buzzed around in his head like some great portent of doom, a deep ominous bell that ringed inside his ears.

" 'How long', since what, Kaida?"

Little dragon. She could not have been more aptly named.

"_How long has this boy been abused?"_

The quiet roar of her voice was deafening in the relative silence of the Hokage Tower; his eyes broke contact with hers, glancing away out towards the falsely idyllic scene of Konoha.

"He is--"

"_I know who he is!_"

He turned back to face her; she looked so much like her father...

"Then you can understand the—feelings—of the villagers."

"_No. I cannot understand their hate_."

He glanced up at her, surprised; she'd never had much of a chance in life, with her mother possessed by a grief Kaida could never understand, fathom, and cursed by having her father's easy smile, protective nature...

And his eyes.

"There is no one to take the boy?"

Her words were terse, tense. He gave a slow nod, wondering where this was leading.

"Then I will take him."

The words were filled with courage, her chin lifted stubbornly and her eyes resolved. He sighed. There would be no changing her mind when she looked like _that_.

"You are only a child yourself, Kaida. _You are eight years old._ How do you propose providing for yourself—let alone a three-year-old boy? And your family won't--"

"I am no longer a member of that family."

The soft, whispered words startled him. Surely, Miyoko wouldn't... her sanity was frail, but not even she would... she _couldn't_ hate Kaida that much...

"I lose nothing worth keeping, Hokage-sama. Please... I... _he needs me_."

The desperate pleading in her voice broke his heart.

"Naruto," he sighed, "do you want to stay with her?"

The tow-headed boy, blue eyes stretched comically wide, looked up in wonder at the girl who smiled tiredly down at him.

He nodded rapidly. Sandaime sighed; it had been rather a moot point to begin with.

"Still, how will you provide?"

"I will work my hands to the bone, I will do _whatever it takes_ to make sure that he is never without again."

There was a pause.

"I will make sure he is loved."

_'Like I never was... like neither of us has been so far.'_

"I _could_ assign Naruto's part of the orphan fund to you. It would provide the necessities, but probably nothing more."

He gave her a hard look.

"No dolls, no candy--"

"Candy just rots your teeth anyways," she gave a relieved laugh.

Despite his better judgment, despite the little voice niggling in his head, telling him that maybe this wasn't as good as an idea it seemed, his morality and conscience battled back saying that here was a girl willing to take the boy in as her own.

"Then, I assign you, Kaida, to be legal guardian of Uzumaki Naruto."

Outside, the deep bells of Konoha fell like a funeral dirge.

* * *

"Are you so sure this is a good idea?" Hatake Kakashi frowned. Only because he was Sakumo's son—and the Yondaime's student-- (_theonlyoneleft_) would he allow such impertinence. 

Especially from a _fifteen-year-old._

"Kaida is a fierce protector, you and I both know that. Uzumaki Naruto could not be in better hands."

"That's not exactly what I mean."

Shaking his head, Kakashi poofed off before he could be dismissed.

"Why do I feel like this is going to end very, very badly?" Sandaime groaned, his heads in his hands.

Nothingness was the only one who answered him.

_

* * *

_

_Three Weeks Later..._

"Naruto! Don't--!"

Crash.

"Not again," she sighed, picking up the chair, hoping she still had some more superglue to hold it together. There was no money to buy a new one.

"Okaa-san," Naruto started, piping up after he was sure he wasn't going to be scolded.

"Onee-chan," she corrected automatically.

"Okaa-san," he insisted stubbornly, "ramen!"

She frowned.

"_No._"

"Okaa-saaaaaan!" he drew it out, whining.

"Naruto-chan, you have to eat your vegetables. No ramen!"

Pouting, looking something between a ruffled fox and a disgruntled bullfrog, she laughed and pulled him into a tight hug. Reluctantly pulling from his sulking, he grinned and gave her a hug back.

"Bedtime," she wiped away the tears of mirth.

"Okaa-san! Big boy!" he said, aghast.

Barely keeping her laughter under control, she gave him a serious nod.

"But you'll always be my little Naruto-chan."

"_Don't call me -chan!"_ he yelled, frustrated.

Ignoring him, as she frequently did when he tried to act like an idiot, she tucked him into the tiny, lumpy bed, wishing that she could have afforded a better one. She pulled out a book for his bedtime story (scrolls and books she _always_ made room in the budget for), she read the book until he fell into a sleep.

Smiling down at him fondly, she stood, putting the book up, and sat at the rickety little table, her legs swinging from the one stool. Mournfully staring at the chair she would have to fix (_again_), she pulled the stool over to the battered refrigerator and reached past the bag of frozen spinach for the little pouch where their even smaller funds were.

Sighing, she pulled out a log book and quickly ran over some figures, frowning. Money was so _tight_... she couldn't even afford to buy Naruto any toys. Her clothes were running ragged, and she was worried she was failing Naruto, even though she was teaching him as best she could; she took cold showers so he could have a hot bath, gave up eating whenever necessary to make sure he had more than enough to eat.

He was too small for his age.

She knew what life he'd lived before—_malnutrition_, Hokage-sama had called it.

_Hate_, was what she called it.

She had gotten used to seeing the seal on his chubby stomach; it no longer bothered her at all. She was constantly attacked by self-doubts, and the villagers hatred; where they could not physically attack Naruto, for fear of the Hokage's retribution, she was fair game—an open target. With her own family officially disowning her, she had no clan, no covering.

Things were getting worse.

Naruto would get so upset—to the point of hysterics—as to why they hated him so much that they would attack her; she knew that some childish form of guilt haunted and nipped at him. He was consumed with fear that one day he would lose her and be alone again. Or worse, that she would turn and hate him like the villagers.

And that was perhaps worst of all.

"Oh, God, what am I going to do?" she asked of the stained ceiling.

"You called?" a rich, deep voice asked amusedly.

Her face lighting up, she almost launched herself towards him but checked herself at the last minute.

"Good evening, Hatake-san," she bowed slightly, face glowing with happiness.

"Maa, maa, I wish some of my comrades were as happy to see me as you are, Kaida-chan," he chucked.

"When you _do_ show up," she grinned.

He may have been only fifteen, but sometimes he felt so much older.

He had already lost so many precious people...

"How is Naruto-kun?" he abruptly changed subjects, trying to keep his morbid thoughts at bay, thoughts that howled and ripped away at his soul.

Her face fell a little, and suddenly he wasn't so sure he was so much older after all.

"I—I'm doing the best I can, but... it's _hard_, Hatake-san," she whispered.

His heart lurched; she looked too much like her father right now, and he had known him too well.

"I... I'm sorry to hear about your family, Kaida-chan," he said quietly.

"So am I, I suppose. I _should_ be. Maybe I am."

She gave him a wry smile, shrugging.

"Or maybe I'm just--"

Kakashi's head shot up, his visible eye narrowing.

"It's them, isn't it?"

He gave a bitter nod.

"If you ever need any help..."

"No, Hatake-san."

The reason why she would not run to him for help was obvious and unspoken; even after who his sensei was, even after all he had done for Konoha, Konoha still didn't trust him.

Helping his sensei's insen would only make things worse.

"But—thank-you, Hatake-san."

From the way her small form slumped, and the drooping of her clear eyes, he smiled a smile that no one could see under his mask (_allofthem_), carrying her bridal style to the sparse pallet next to Naruto's bed.

Going to the door, (_because he couldn't use windows anymore, for awhile—he was tired of looking into what he was denied_) he gave one last, fond look to his sensei's last wish and his insen.

And that was the last they saw of him for several years.

* * *

"_RUN_!" she screamed. 

Half-carrying, half-dragging Naruto, her heart pounding in her ears, she desperately slipped through the marketplace, avoiding the blows aimed at her head as best as possible, wincing at the ones she didn't. She gritted her teeth, white knuckles grimly attached around Naruto's wrist in a death-grip, and continued running.

Eyes widening when she reached a wall she swore hadn't been there last time, they narrowed as she realized what it meant.

Genjutsu.

Ninja.

Pushing past it, body tense in expectation of running full-speed into a solid wall despite her mind's assurance that it wouldn't, it didn't relax even after she had pushed through. If genjutsu was used, it meant ninja filled with enough hate to risk the "pleasantries" Sandaime would gladly deal out if he found out—ninja who could easily kill her and no one would be the wiser until days later.

If they _ever_ found her body.

"THERE SHE IS!" a woman with dark hair and eyes, foam flicking from her mouth, screamed in high, inhuman shrieks.

With a sad start, she realized that she was staring at her mother.

Lips narrowed into a fine line, she easily danced out of the way of the grabbing hands (_claws_) of her fellow villagers, fluid like water upon rock, leaping just out of reach.

Glaring at the chuunin (_because the jounin knew better, and the genin were too scared, only chuunin were stupid enough_) she knew with a sinking feeling that she was doomed; there was only hatred and death in their eyes, and she could not even muster the courage to return it.

But still, there was rage.

"How _dare _you attack him!" she yelled, falling into a stance she had seen Maito-san in once.

Of course, she had no idea what to do after that, everything Maito-san had done in the sparring was a blur, but hey, why bother with the details?

One of the villagers charged at her, and she merely moved a foot behind her, using the foot out front to kick him in the stomach.

"SEE THAT! THE LITTLE **DEMON LOVER** IS ATTACKING US, TOO! FILTHY **TRAITOR**!" someone shrieked.

_'No... **you** are the traitors for ignoring the dying wish of our beloved Yondaime...'_

"Naruto."

Something about her voice (_her back was to him, he was tired of watching people's backs, ohGoddon'tleavememommy)_ made his eyes grow wide with terror and sorrow.

"OKAA-SAN!" he screeched, sobbing into his tiny fists.

"Run."

Her eyes were clear (_ifhe'dbeenabletoseethem_) , and her quiet, clear voice was firm.

"Okaa-san--" he whimpered, sniffling.

"_Run_."

There was no mistaking the command in her voice; he was torn—he wanted to be a good boy for his mommy, but he didn't want to leave her alone with all the mean people...

"_Okaa-san..._" he cried.

Reluctantly, he turned around, starting to run as fast as his little legs would allow, willing himself to head back home, (_maybeifhehopedenoughhismommywouldcomehometoo_) throwing one last look over to his mommy.

She stood there, still and unmoving like he had left her only a half-minute ago, like a guardian angel carved out of stone, something strangely beautiful that made his heart ache.

He knew then he'd already lost her.

* * *

She closed her eyes as the beatings continued; after a long moment where the world stopped, the look in her eyes unsettling even the most manic of the crowd, they soon swarmed over her. Lost in the middle of the fury, she didn't open her eyes until she caught a glint of metal, flashing like demonic light, taunting her. 

As it embedded itself into her chest, ring-deep, she felt searing pain, like her lungs were filled with liquid fire. Blood spurted out from her mouth like an unholy sacrifice, and the villagers stilled. Like the awakening from some cannibalistic dream, they left her there on the ground, bleeding and lost in a world of black, one by one.

* * *

He didn't expect the door to knock. 

His mommy _never_ knocked; she gently opened the door (_he slammed it open, to mock the mean people who tried to break it down, breakdownhissoul_).

He didn't open it, because his mommy had told him to _never_ open the door to strangers, but—his mommy wasn't here (_shewasgonelikeafallenguardianangel_) and he was afraid.

"Uzumaki Naruto?" the question was slightly muffled from behind the door, even as he hesitantly swung it open.

"...yes?" he said in a tiny voice, torn between hope and terror.

"Come with us," said a warily sympathetic-looking boy with a hair-stick in his mouth and a slightly younger looking girl with dark hair and crimson eyes, eyes openly empathetic and sad.

"Why should I?" he held onto the fragments of his stubborness like shards of broken glass.

"It's about your mother."

He stared at the boy with horror; he nodded, ignoring the looks shared between the two shinobi, or the soft shake of the kunoichi's head.

All he knew was that his mommy was in trouble.

And somehow it was _all his fault_.

* * *

Sandaime sadly watched the pale figure on the bed, her even breathing too deep to be normal, and too laboured to be good. He sighed, shaking his head slowly, feeling older than when he'd woken up that morning. 

Funny, it already seemed so long ago...

"Hokage-sama."

He turned his head towards the respectful medic-nin, the man's dark hair was greying,and his normally gentle, untroubled brown eyes were distant.

"The kunai pierced her lung. It collapsed, rapidly filling with blood. We've done all we can, but... really, it all depends on her will to survive."

Sandaime was silent for a moment, thoughtful.

"She has a strong will. She will not fail us."

The medic-nin rose an eyebrow at the statement, but didn't press it. He knew better than to question the brilliant man before him—there was a reason he was called "The Professor."

"The boy insists on staying by her side," the medic took a different subject, scowling. Sarutobi gave a exasperated grin—the medic didn't hate the boy, but he was notoriously protective of his patients and one of the best medics in Konoha.

_'Probably only second to Tsunade, really...'_

Old grief attacked his heart, and he turned away, walking slightly hunchedlike the old man he was.

_

* * *

_

_'...where am I?'_

_Blackness swirled around her like a tangible thing, and unexplainable tears pricked her eyes; she felt... grieving._

_Strange._

_'You are between life and death.'_

_The voice was at once imperious and kind, deep and high, sea and sky. It was like living and dying._

_It was Rebirth._

_'You have guess correctly. I am both death and destruction necessary for Rebirth, and Rebirth itself. For all of life is born from dying, and only from dying can Life be born.'_

_The voice melded and changed; female to male, young to old, a dizzying sensation._

_'You are within the confines of my Domain. There are two options laid before you, both with pros and cons—you must choose one.'_

_She saw herself, face peaceful, robed in a white yukata. She was in a coffin._

_She was looking at her own funeral._

_There was the Hokage, in his fire-licked robes. Most of the jounin—she could have sworn she even saw a tear in Ibiki's eye before he blinked it stoically away._

_Hatake-san, probably the closest thing to a friend she had; irascible Shiranui-san, whose off- color jokes nevertheless hid an intelligent, serious demeanor. _

_Naruto._

_The boy looked lost and bewildered, lost and grieved like his world had shattered. He was clutching a stuffed frog tightly._

_The scene warped, and she saw him arguing with an older man that she swore looked familiar. He seemed happy, confident, and everything that she ever knew he could be._

_Opening the door to an apartment that she barely recognized as theirs, the emptiness of the house struck her as the paradox; he became quiet as he fixed himself a bowl of ramen (**eat your vegetables!**she couldn't help thinking.)_

_Unfurling a scroll that he studied while consuming the noodles, she noticed that the apartment was in disrepair; laundry stagnated in piles that she wasn't even sure **could** be cleaned anymore, and this Naruto—so grown up—seemed so melancholy as he stared out the dirty windows._

_But still, he had friends who cared about him—people he could have as his family._

"_Of course he doesn't remember Kaida-chan! After all, Naruto was so young when she died--"_

_His head slowly rose as he heard his name, staring at the strange jounin with the senbon in his mouth._

"_Oi! What about me?" he demanded._

"_Oh, we were just wondering if you still remembered Kaida-chan," the jounin shrugged._

"_Who?" he wrinkled his nose. He wondered if she had been one of his classmates._

"_See? Owe me twenty," senbon-mouth smirked at a guy covered in scars._

"_OI! WHO'S KAIDA!" Naruto demanded. He hated being ignored._

"_Just... she was just someone who looked after you when you were little, Naruto."_

_He cocked his head, twisting his mouth, trying to remembered. For a moment, the ghost of a memory lingered beyond his reach. _

_He shrugged._

"_Sorry, don't remember her at all."_

_Tears stung her joy; whether of sorrow or joy, she could not tell._

_'If I die now... he won't remember me?'_

_'Yes. He will not carry the pain of losing you—it will be washed from his mind like snow.'_

_'...I see...'_

_She realized that she naked, vast and insignificant—here and everywhere, like thought._

_'And the second option?'_

_She saw Naruto staring wistfully at the groups of genin, hefting his bags to regain a more comfortable position. Sighing, he headed away from the Academy, back towards home._

"_MOOOOM! I'M HOOOOME!" he shouted, slamming the door open._

"_NA-RU-TO!" her voice stressed all the syllables of his name warningly._

_He gulped._

"_Sorry, 'kaa-san, I forgot," he put a hand behind his head, laughing sheepishly._

"_It's fine," she sighed, starting to put the groceries away._

"_Oi, do you think I could go play with the other kids, 'kaa-san?" he asked eagerly._

"_I don't know..." she sighed, pretending to think very seriously._

"_MO-OM!" he whined._

_She grinned at him._

"_Finish your chores and **promise **me you'll eat something besides ramen, and it's fine."_

"_Yes!" he cheered._

_Laughing she started dinner, even though she knew he'd be eating right after it, she turned around to see him attacking the laundry with vigor. Turning back to her stew, she ignored the loud thumps and crashes that signaled he'd gotten caught up in the sheets again._

_She enjoyed the peace here; it was a quiet place, and the pace was unhurried, but unstoppable, like the tides of the sea._

_The sea..._

_She hadn't realized that she'd missed it so much all these years; living near it again was wonderful._

"_MOM! I'M DONE!" he yelled, walking up to her._

_She missed home, though._

"_Man, I just hope that little crybaby Inari doesn't try to tag along again," Naruto complained._

_Blinking, she returned to the present, gently putting away all the dreams of the past._

"_You know, Inari-kun sometimes reminds me of you when you were that age," she smiled._

"_I was **never** a crybaby like **he** is!" Naruto argued vehemently as he wolfed down the soup she ladled into his plain bowl._

"_Still, he never gives up, does he?" she chuckled._

_Yes, Wave Country was a nice place to live after all._

_'...! We no longer live in Konoha?' she couldn't help asking._

_'No. But the path that leads to this outcome, I will not show you. And nothing is ever written into stone—every decision affects everything around it, like a rippling of water or the beat of a butterfly's wings. Everything is always changing. You may not have this future.'_

_She could die—she could be free of worry, knowing that Naruto would grow up into a man she could be proud of, surrounded by friends that cared._

_Or she could take him away from all that, to a life far away._

_Her choice._

_He was young enough that, if she died, he would not be burdened by grief—it would be as if she never existed but as a tragic figure soon forgotten even by those few that bothered to remember._

_He would have friends._

_He would walk into an empty home every night._

_Her choice._

_He would have a person to cherish him, take him away from all the hate._

_He would walk into a home filled with love and warmth, even if she wasn't there._

_He would know that he was loved._

_Her choice._

_He would fend for himself and protect others on entirely his own strength._

_He would grow into a man who would set the world on fire._

_He would endure great pain and great joy._

_Her choice._

_He would live a normal life sheltered under her protection._

_He would grow into himself, in his own time._

_He would be surrounded by her love._

_**Her choice.**_

_She smiled._

_'I choose--'_

_**INTERESTING. ABLE TO KEEP HER 'SELF' IN THIS PLACE, TO THINK IN THE NOW AND THE FUTURE. SHE PIERCES THE WHIRLWIND.**_

__

_**SHE REQUIRES FURTHER STUDY.**_

_**SHE WILL DO.**_

------Owari------


	2. Chapter 2

****'Ello, me lovelies. :) Yes, I am looking forward to POTC: DMC. Who isn't? Anyways, I bring you one of the chapters I am uploading today---all credit for this chapter goes to my _awesome, **wonderful**_beta-reader, Ashen Rose. She's become a good friend to me (at least, I hope she knows!) and helped me out alot with this chapter. Enjoy!

**_

* * *

_**

**_Guardian_**

She gasped.

The agony of breathing burned itself through her lungs like a snake, coiling as it was feeding on her pain, scrubbing her empty inside, purging her of humanity.

"As you can see," the medic-nin spoke dryly, "she's not quite ready to go home yet."

Sandaime nodded slowly, feeling tired and old. He glanced at the distraught blonde next to her, holding her hand tightly and crying, watching the two like a scientist waiting for his rats to die.

"What do you recommend?"

The words were heavy, like stones in the sea, belying plans beyond mortal men.

"I will take her home with me. My son will not be disturbing to her health, and the boy will be safe there," he replied firmly.

Sandaime started; again, despite his brilliance, he would have never foreseen this. Too many things were happening too quickly that made him uneasy...

"Kaida-chan will be fine under your care."

It neither a statement or a question; it was an _order_.

"Of course, Hokage-sama," he replied firmly.

Sandaime watched the former ANBU medic-nin walk in, talking with her gently but seriously. He saw her eyes narrow for a moment, her hand on Naruto's tightening, and she nodded slowly.

Giving her the crutches, the doctor helped her to her feet. Sandaime chose that moment to enter, smiling benevolently like some wizened god.

She hissed out in pain as she sat up slowly, an arm instinctively wrapping around her chest, the pain in her lungs apparent. Naruto, swallowing (_choking_) on his tears, tried to help her as best he could.

"I can't do it," she gritted out, barely even standing for a moment before collapsing off her feet.

"You _must_, Kaida-chan," the tired doctor ordered.

"Okaa-san?" Naruto whispered, childishly taking her cut hands and kissing them awkwardly.

"Naruto?" she smiled down at the blonde blur before her.

"Too ma' it all better," he grinned, a _foxy _smile, though his bright blue eyes were tentative.

She blinked startledly for a moment, then chuckled softly.

"Oh, Naruto, my boyo."

She hugged him, wincing, and kissed the top of his hair.

"You made it _much_ better."

"I—I did!" he asked excitedly, hopping up and down.

"You _always_ make things better for me."

The little girl closed her eyes, head back so it faced the ceiling. She took a quivering breath, and when her eyes opened they had darkened to the color of blue-rippled steel.

Using every bit of strength she ever knew she had (and then some), she forced herself back to her feet, gripping the bed, the nightstand, even the wall, until she stood on unsteady legs. The crutches were a lifesaver as she stood there, legs threatening to buckle again, for what seemed an eternity of hell. Finally, she steadied herself and looked expectantly at them.

"Well?"

"Well."

The medic-nin looked at her with an unreadable gaze. Finally, he sighed and held out an arm to help her wobble down the corridor.

She never looked at Sandaime.

* * *

Naruto's wide eyes were awed.

"B-big!" he spluttered, pointing an accusing finger at the large house.

"Yes, big," the doctor chuckled, affectionately rubbing the boy's hair.

She was silent; the house was nestled in the heart of the dense woods from which Konohagakure had gotten its name. The faded white stood out starkly against the overwhelming greenery like old bones. She felt strange—there was blood on this soil, like a festering wound of decay, a cemetery in the middle of paradise.

"This used to be a hospital in the olden days, before Konoha grew so large. Once it was outdated and more-or-less useless, I decided to use it as my home for my family."

She glanced over to him out of the corner of her eyes, which were the color of slate in the half-gloom of the suffocating forest.

"...family?" Naruto asked curiously, excited about finding a possible friend.

"Otou-san?" a white-headed boy stuck his head out one of the second-story bay windows.

"Ah! Speak of the little devil!" the man said proudly.

Yakushi Kouhei grinned and waved his son down. The boy wrinkled his nose as he looked at the girl on crutches, with the _baby_ shouting something indecipherable at him.

"Coming!" he shouted down.

After a few seconds, the front door slammed open and he stood there, frowning at his father.

"Who," he drawled, "are _they_?"

Black eyes waited with uncanny patience for an answer.

"This," his father replied somewhat firmly, "is Kaida-chan and her ward, Naruto."

"_Naruto_?" he squinted, disbelieving.

_'Why is he bringing the Kyuubi boy **here**? Has he caught on...?'_

"Hello," he waved to Kaida shyly, watching her curiously.

She didn't respond, sizing him up, frowning slightly. This boy was cold and calculating--

Like a _snake_.

"Hello," she smiled charmingly at him, clasping his hand in hers warmly, the blush appearing on his face and his wide eyes indicating that she hadn't reacted like he had planned.

Naruto looked back between the two, scowling.

"_My_ okaa-san!" he snatched her hand away, glaring at the newcomer.

The _threat._

She grinned down at him, sticking out her tongue, and Naruto did the same, pulling down his eyelid.

"Come on, Naruto-kun."

The days passed into weeks, falling into a routine that was familiar and apprehensive. Yakushi-san welcomed them into the house without reservation—such was the heart of a medic-nin. Or at least _this_ one medic-nin. Kabuto had warmed to them slowly, and soon he was seen reluctantly "baby-sitting" Naruto when Kaida needed rest, and practically doting on her when she was awake.

And yet, through it all, probably all of them sensed that it was a useless farce.

The villagers were rejoicing that the two had disappeared; the Yakushi family were quieter about their family affairs, although they had never been _open_ before, exactly.

They were not a family.

This was not their home.

But... there was comfort in playing make-believe.

"Naruto, take a nap."

"DUN WANNA!" the toddler screamed, crossing his chest.

Eyebrow twitching slightly, Kabuto wondered if it was worth risking his cover and Orochimaru-sama's wrath by slipping the boy a sleeping tablet.

"Naruto... can you be quiet for okaa-san?"

Kaida's soft, gentle voice from where she reclined from the couch reminded Kabuto that she was awake. Sometimes, she could be so quiet, so still, that one almost forgot she was there.

Then there were other times though; out in the sunshine when she was truly happy and glowing, that he was struck with the strange sensation of basking in the radiance of a daughter of the sun.

He genuinely _liked _her.

He was alarmed, of course; to get emotionally attached to the people you were spying on was detrimental—you began questioning yourself, and even worse, your cause.

But... She was still one of the most _real_ people he had ever met.

A dangerous, beautiful ordinary that he _just couldn't leave alone._

"I think I'll go for a walk," he rolled his eyes at the antics of the two as she tickled Naruto and he squealed, kicking his little legs into the air, but being careful to miss her.

Even then, as Kabuto would later reflect, he had incredible self-control.

She glanced up, her eyes as unreadable as ever (he could _never_ figure out what went on in that dirty-blonde head of hers), the look strangely chilling and cold.

Shaken, he smiled a smile that he knew no one would believe (_because his father was out, out, out of the picture_) and nearly ran out, ran out from those eyes that cut past his defenses, that tore open his mask, that _saw him..._

* * *

There was something about that boy that _hissed_, that _warned_ like a rattle-tail, something about him that she didn't trust. Perhaps it was her father's instincts, or perhaps it was her own: she was the dragon-girl, the warrior-protector, the _guardian._

So she, after finally settling Naruto down enough for an afternoon nap, she picked up her crutches (because there were some wounds time could heal, and others that only death could, the greatest cure-all of all) and hobbled out the door, to follow him.

"...you have guests."

The voice was somehow old, despite the handsome, pale face, and a deep voice that whispered of _death-in-life_, and as she leaned back against the tree, eyes closed, she sighed.

"Yes. The Kyuubi-boy and his legal guardian," Kabuto replied smoothly.

"Who is she?"

As he opened his mouth, Orochimaru cut him off.

"Or perhaps we should ask her ourselves?"

His tongue shot out, wrapping around the startled, wide-eyed girl behind the tree, and bringing her out, slammed her into the ground in front of them. Kabuto nearly helped her, but checked himself in time, wincing at the wounds that _must_ have been excruciating.

"...you look _familiar_, child. Do I know you?" his voice was a hiss, probing and fearsome even as he slurped his tongue back in.

"I... I am only a guardian..." she forced her arms to hold her weight as she slowly dragged her legs back up unsteadily.

"...Orochimaru."

He eyed her speculatively, golden eyes crafty and brilliant even from here. But it was like acid, eating away instead of glorifying that which their gaze touched.

"You know me, girl?" he all but purred, preening.

"Who does not know the Legendary Genius, of the Sannin?" she spread her hands on her crutches rhetorically.

"You have a honeyed tongue, wench. But still, you look as if I have seen you before and cannot place you. I do not like that," he said quietly, not even needing to hide the threat in his voice.

"She is no one," Kabuto hastily reassured him, causing the Sannin to swing his head towards him.

"Oh? You sound so sure, almost as if you wanted to _protect_ her. _Do_ you, Kabuto?"

He was silent for a moment, his cool and penetrating gaze reading the younger boy who refused to speak.

"I take that as a yes. Who were her parents?"

"Her mother was Hogosha Miyoko, of the... infamous Hogosha family."

"Ah, yes, the ones with fanatical devotion to not only our _dear Konoha_, but are often hired out to become guardians of high-ranking officials, with an excellent track record."

"Yes, sir," Kabuto replied, somewhat relieved.

"And her father?" Orochimaru purred.

"... I never discovered his name, apparently he had gone _Dark_ for a mission and had been stricken from the records as a precaution and Hogosha-san was too grief-stricken to ever tell anyone who he was."

"...'grief-stricken'? He is dead, then?"

"Undoubtedly. He was killed in ANBU while fighting Kyuubi—he was the Snake Mask."

"Really? Then he and I must be very similar, since I was the one who _founded_ the Snake Mask," he murmured reminiscently.

"He fell before her eyes—he was in full ANBU uniform, so his face wasn't seen. Rumor is that she inherited her looks and most of her personality from him, although she has her mother's quiet," Kabuto stated her being in cold, clinical statistics.

Suddenly she knew how the dead must feel after having medic-nin examine them.

"I am I. No one else," she replied firmly.

"Certainly. Still, certain traits are inherited, like _bloodlines..._"

His eyes grew sharp, sharp like a drawn blade, and bright with madness.

"Did _he_ have a bloodline-limit, a _kekkei genkai_, for her to _inherit_?" he demanded gleefully.

"No. No _kekkei genkai_ were observed in the battle."

"What about his _friends_? Aren't _they_ still alive!" he insisted.

"...they were all killed by Kyuubi, as well, Orochimaru-sama."

"... I see. So he is the _Nameless, Faceless ANBU_?" he sneered, referring to the ancient poem had been written anonymously and become the unofficial ANBU pledge.

"Exactly."

Her head shot towards the house; the internal warning that she'd installed telling her something was approaching. Her eyes narrowed, flashing a deep blue for a moment.

"You will tell your father that when you were walking in the woods, on the way to the house--" it was so tempting to call it home, but that was an impossible lie, "and you found me."

Hobbling away back towards the building, she grit her teeth and slammed her head against a tree trunk, grimacing as her eyes watered from the pain, blood spurting from new, rather large gash on her forehead.

Collapsing to the ground, she didn't see Kabuto's disbelieving face or hear Orochimaru's sinister laugh.

"There is a brain in that little head of hers, isn't there?" he chuckled.

Kabuto, having assured that she wasn't dead, glanced over at his master.

"Still, I don't like being lied to, you know. I promised you one lie when you joined me—you will use it to protect her?"

"... what are you talking about, Orochimaru-sama?" the silver-haired boy asked, his voice a careful mask of neutrality.

"I am talking about the fact, _Kabuto, _that the _Snake Mask was retired_ after my—enlightenment."

His voice had dropped dangerously.

"_Who is she?"_ he roared.

He thought for a moment before replying, simply:

"A friend."

* * *

"Quite a nasty fall you had. If you had wanted a stroll, you should have stuck in the gardens," Kouhei clicked his tongue. She gave him a woozy smile.

"Of the two people in the world, which would you be: a flower person, or a tree person?"

"Don't tell me that bump on the forehead is having you wax philosophical," ten-year-old Kabuto snorted. She grinned at him.

" _'Beware, oh, the serpent hiding in the grass,'_ " she quoted an old Konohan proverb.

Eyes narrowing slightly, he laughed at the seeming inanity of the statement with his adopted father.

"Oh, I must be getting old," Kouhei groaned as he forced himself to his feet, heading off into the kitchen for something to drink.

"I bet you know why, don't you, Kabuto-kun?" she asked quietly.

He stared at her, the picture of a white-haired angel of innocence.

"No. I don't."

She only smiled that slightly maniacal, dazed smile and stared at the ceiling, planning.

* * *

Later, when they had moved back to their apartment and she stood before Sandaime as he asked how she was, she smiled that same smile, only with an edge that was downright _predatory_.

It was, Sandaime would reflect later, a _dragon's_ smile.

"...may I speak freely, Hokage-sama?" she asked brightly.

"Of course, Kaida-chan," he replied cautiously.

"You know, Kabuto-kun loves his father. I think it would _crush_ him if his father treated him coldly."

"Well—yes, of course, I'm sure it would any child. Why...?"

"I think that Kabuto is a _lot_ more skilled than he lets on—he's just afraid that if he gets _too_ skilled, his father will feel threatened," she stated conspiratorially.

"Hmm... it makes sense, but he hasn't even graduated the Academy yet. Surely--"

"Would you do me a favor, Hokage-sama?" she smoothly cut him off.

"That depends, Kaida-chan," he said, slightly alarmed.

He had done everything he could for poor Naruto...

Her smile; that strange, strange smile; grew wider.

"Would you just—well, _see_ if my idea is right?"

A sudden serious edge had turned her smile mirthless.

"_Keep a close eye on him, Sandaime._"

Cheerfully waving him goodbye, she scampered off, leaving the old man to wonder if she was insane.

Or if he was.

"I HATE HER!" Kabuto screeched.

Orochimaru, holding his sides from laughing so hard, finally wiped away his tears of mirth.

"You must realize, though, that she did it in the one way that no one would suspect, no one would question: an adopted boy's desperation to keep his father's love," he snickered.

"Yes," he muttered sullenly.

Orochimaru's laughter stilled.

"_Who is she, Kabuto_?"

Kabuto stared at the dirt, which of course told him nothing because the earth tends to keep its thoughts to itself.

"A friend."

His tone was of a such a finality that Orochimaru wouldn't ask again.

---_owari_---

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Here's the... er... happy chapter. Don't count on too many more of these. Again, all thanks go to Ashen Rose, my wonderful beta-reader who has helped me out _tremendously_. :)

The dragons are a red herring, 'cause they hardly have any role in this story. At all. Seriously. ---shifts eyes--- Well, a _small_ role, later on. _Very_ small. Still... I likie my dragons.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Guardian_**

_Once, there were dragons in this world._

_The other tailed beasts had driven the creatures out, the dragons who had befriended certain clans and protected them; the ones who guided them and protected their Chosen Ones for as long as human memory could reach back (which, dragons will quickly point out, is not very far at all), and even the oldest dragons could barely remember when they had adopted the humans._

_But... that was all before Kyuubi came._

_The other tailed beasts the dragons could contend against; though they had all come from the same place, to the dragons were given (though they possessed less chakra and strength, they were never godlike, like the tailed beasts) the most wisdom and the ability to speak._

_Only the greatest tailed beasts (the Nine, the dragons simply called them) ever turned their hearts towards domination and destruction._

_Still, things were not always so grim; once, humans could look into the sky and see the giant dragons wheeling overhead like angelic birds, graceful in flight like the wind itself._

_When Kyuubi came, though... all was shattered beyond repair._

_No one remembers the dragons now; it is all about the Nine who were, admittedly, always stronger than the winged beings. Yet, for all their lack of chakra-strength and their vulnerability, the one thing that made the dragons feared and respected by all until their annihilation was this:_

_They were born with hearts to protect._

_Few humans were ever given such hearts as dragons—hearts boundless in their loyalty, and fearless in their fierce devotion. It was said once, though humankind has long since forgotten it, that the dragons were the guardians of humankind—to lose them is to lose the best of ourselves._

_Once, though, in every thousandth generation is one born like a dragon, with exceptional strength of mind and will._

_They are called, quite simply, "**Guardians.**"_

* * *

Kaida blinked. She had, for a moment, a strange sense of disorientation; a sense of... loss.

As she stood up to fix Naruto breakfast (who, like the true toddler he was, had hit the floor literally running) and stared into empty cupboards.

"Mother Hubbard, spare us a bone?" she asked dryly.

"FOOD!" Naruto shouted happily, bouncing up and down.

Sighing, she grabbed her pouch with its meager funds and took Naruto's hand.

"Shopping?" she asked, amused.

"YAY!" he grinned, hopping excitedly.

Feeling a headache coming on, she took him by the hand and the two headed down the street.

* * *

"Let's see... what's left..." she murmured, going over her grocery list mentally, wondering if she could afford the cheap toy that Naruto had been eying wistfully.

"OI! WATCH IT!" Naruto shouted from where he'd wandered to the end of the aisle, rubbing his head as he sat.

Wait a minute...

_Naruto_?

_Sitting_ on a shopping trip?

To the _grocery_ store?

"Oh, boy," she whispered, body tensing as she half-ran to where he was.

"Naruto-kun, hon, are you ok?" she asked gently, glad to see that there was only a small bump on his head.

"HE RAN IN'U ME!" Naruto pointed to the offender indignantly.

A pale, black-haired boy sat on the ground in a similar fashion as Naruto, and she got a sinking feeling. Black hair, black eyes, dressed in dark colors...

"It's all your fault, _dummy_, for not looking where you were going," he muttered.

"IS NOT! YOU SHOU'DA BEEN LOOKIN' TOO AND NOT RUNNIN' SO FAST!" he cried angrily.

"IS TOO!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"And what trouble have you gotten yourself into _now_, foolish little brother?" a voice asked, exasperated and amused at all once.

Each of the two eight year olds grabbed their younger counterparts, gently prying the tussling toddlers apart, the two little boys now holding a few strands of the other's hair in their chubby fists.

"Sorry about that, my foolish little brother can be a little... troublesome, as the Nara say," the boy apologized sheepishly, a hand going behind his head.

"No, no, it's fine, Naruto can be... ah... Naruto."

"Sounds like him," the brother jerked his head to the embarrassed pale toddler, who was sporting a pout. Naruto, similarly, seemed put-out that his _okaa-san_ was apologizing to the—the—

"TEME!"

"_NA-RU-TO!_" Kaida gasped, horrified at such language.

The older boy tried not to laugh.

"Very... interesting... vocabulary he's learned," he snickered as she scolded him furiously.

"Righ', aniki, he's such a—such a—dobe!" the little brother chortled.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!" the boy clocked the toddler on the head.

"Owie," Little Brother whimpered.

He groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Father will _kill_ me if he finds out you know such language, he'll blame _me—_wait a minute, where _did_ you learn—_that_!" the boy demanded.

"From Shisui-nii-san," Little Brother replied proudly.

Big Brother's eye twitched.

"I am going to kill him," he announced calmly—too calmly.

"Aniki's scary," Little Brother hid behind Naruto.

"HAH! SCAREDY-CAT!" Naruto shouted gleefully.

"AM NOT!" Little Brother yelled back indignantly.

"ARE TOO!" "AM NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

"AM NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

"AM NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

"AM—umf!"

A hand had firmly clasped itself around Little Brother's mouth, muffling his incensed outrage.

"Um... I think we'll be going...?"

"... I am no one you should know."

Blue met black, and for a moment the two understood.

"Sorry about this, bye!" Big Brother called over his shoulder, walking off and berating his little brother repeatedly on the way home.

Smiling to herself and shaking her head, she finished what little shopping she had left. Going to the counter to pay, she was amazed as the scowling shopkeeper told her that the "nice young boy" had already paid it for her.

A little glow of happiness filled her as she told Naruto that yes, he _could_ have the toy this time (it was a stuffed frog) and watching his eyes go wide as saucers.

On the way home, they had to duck several shinobi—just to be on the safe side. They were jounin, ones that she had come to consider friendly acquaintances, but still...

This was the strange reality of their world: rare kindnesses and unbearable hatred.

How did one balance the two?

She shook her head, firmly telling herself that it was useless to think so deep tonight and to just appreciate the gift for what it was—a gift.

But still—who _were_ they?

Black hair... black eyes...

Nara? Hyuuga?

Shrugging it off, she tucked Naruto into bed, reading him his _all-time favorite_ bedtime story (a children's biography of the Yondaime—_From Loser to Leader—_that she had been given by Sandaime) and soon fell into unconsciousness.

A storm rumbled, beginning to break over the Hokage Mountain...

--owari--

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The last chapter today, I promise. A cyber-cookie to anyone who guesses the poem she's quoting--another one if you know the author of that poem. :) Aaaaaaand... yes. Three guesses as to the story she's telling. Reason being, is that I have always felt that the books (not the movie, so much) really portrayed the suffering of the Ringbearer, and the agony of his soul--and how, sometimes, there _is_ no happily ever after.

_"Someone must give things up, so that others can keep them."_

It makes me cry, every time. He has literally walked through _hell_, and he's still thinking of others. A willing sacrifice, and the perfect example of a guardian just short of Haku (who was the lure to bring me into Naruto, and who is the ultimate 'guardian' of his precious person.) So... kinda strange, this chappie.

Still, as always, all credit goes to my wonderful beta-reader, Ashen Rose. Rock on, girl.

* * *

****

**_Guardian_**

"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," Naruto sang loudly.

Kaida sighed, her chin resting on her hands. The rain outside had been continuing monotonously for days, turning the grey skies into a monochrome palette of gloom. Shaking her head, she frowned as the lights flickered—so help her if the manager turned them off again...

"STAY AWAY FROM HERE!" a voice howled, and she winced.

Obviously, her new neighbors weren't exactly throwing a welcome party...

Too bad; since they had been here first, in any other situation she and Naruto would have been the ones with the tenure to defend themselves. As things stood now, they were lucky if they would last here to the end of the month.

"... Naruto."

"--CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS! Hai, okaa-san?" he asked, running over.

"Do you want to hear a story?"

She often told Naruto fantastic stories to calm him down, as he was fascinated with the tales; an added benefit was that it cleared her mind and chased away the melancholic despair that sometimes plagued her.

"Once, long, long ago, the world was much different from what it was today..."

"Really! No Ko'ha?" he whispered.

"Hai. It was full of terrible creatures and full of danger."

Smiling dryly, she wondered now if it was so different after all...

"There were a three major races: dwarfs, elves, and Man. The dwarfs were stout, hardy folk, miners mostly and brilliant with stone-craft. The elves were the fairest of all beings: the Firstborn of Eru, who created everything. They were the wisest in this Middle Earth," _for we are between heaven and hell_, "and the most skilled of all crafts, excelled only by the dwarfs in the shaping of stone."

"So, they were all like—Hokages, right?" Naruto scrunched his face up.

"Yes, dear, but immortal—never aging, never wearying."

"_Definitely_ not like Hokage," he said firmly, thinking of the wrinkled Sandaime.

"But there was a Dark Lord, too, from beyond even the elves time; he was one of the Higher Powers that had rebelled against Eru."

"But _why_?"

"Because he wanted to dominate the world," she replied simply.

"But _why_?" poor Naruto was confused.

"He was greedy," she smiled.

"BAD MAN!" he shouted.

"Exactly. Unbeknown to most everyone, there was another race. They were small, simple people who lived close to the earth. They did not do great things, except live life; they were peaceful and homely."

"They w' ugly?"

"Er, no, darling. That just meant that they were homebodies--"

"THEY WERE GANGSTERS!"

She sighed.

"They liked to stay close to home."

"Oh. Ok. So do I," he smiled sweetly up at her.

"I know you do," she ruffled his hair. "And somehow, the Dark Lord's Ring—which was very, _very _powerful, because he needed it to destroy everyone else—was passed to one of the Little People, who called themselves _hobbits_. He set out with a group of friends and went through a difficult journey, being injured several times. But finally, in the end, the Ring was destroyed and the War ended. People went about their business again, as they had before."

"Happily ever after?" Naruto scrunched his face up, cocking his head.

She was silent for a moment.

"No, dearest."

"But—_why_?"

There was a note of plaintive confusion, and she knew that he was not talking about the story anymore.

"Because sometimes, no matter how brave the hero is, there are—things—that happen that can't be made all better."

"Didn't _he_ have an okaa-san, too?" Naruto asked quietly.

"No. No, Naruto-kun, I don't guess he did."

He thought for a moment.

"Then that's why."

Hugging him close to her, she breathed in his baby-scent mingled with the salt of her tears and wondered how long until _this_ story could be made better, too.

* * *

Later that night, after she had read him _Loser to Leader_ (she didn't look forward to telling him one day that the Yondaime was no longer among the living, as the biography had ended with his coronation as Hokage), and tucked Naruto in, she walked to the opposite side of the room to look at the rain out of the large windows, probably the only nice thing of the apartment.

In seeming slow motion, a raven flapped up, its wings beating so slowly that she could see the rise and fall of them. She smiled at it, wondering idly how it was staying in the air in the heavy rain.

" _'Quoth the raven, nevermore,'_ ?" she asked, remembering the poem fondly.

In a sudden feeling of dread, terror wrapped around her like a boa constrictor, suffocating her with panic. Not understanding her instincts, just _acting_, she grabbed the pack that held everything she and Naruto needed (_and his few toys, his books... her life_) and yanked him out of the door just before the bird exploded, completely destroying the apartment. Running, the fires of hell literally licking at her feet, she shifted Naruto from where he clung onto her back to the front of her, where she gripped him tightly into her arms.

"OKAA-SAN!" he cried, terrified. Her eyes set like steel, she sprinted out of the door, narrowly missing the kunai that would have killed if she hadn't dodged.

Mind racing even faster than her legs, she thought desperately of where to go; Sandaime was out of Konoha, attending negotiations with Mist, and she was about to cry. She had nowhere to go, no one to help them, and they were going to die.

_'No.'_

Furiously rounding the corner, she continued running blindly; these weren't chuunin, they were _ANBU_.

God help her, or they were dead already.

Wincing as a senbon embedded itself into her shoulder, nearly hitting a vital point, she wished she could go back to the wistful make-believe of safety with the Yakushi family.

Wait.

Her mind stopping its bullet-train flow of thoughts, and speeding up all at once, she made a sharp left at the next intersection, heading towards a plain, nondescript and rather boring building.

Breath coming out in little wheezing gasps, Naruto sobbing into her chest, arms aching from holding him and legs in so much pain that she knew she'd probably snapped a ligament, she didn't bother taking the time to open the glass doors, turning around just before the impact so that she slammed through back-first, crouched over Naruto to protect him from the glass. Ignoring the startled looks of most of the ninja working there (because, though no one would ever guess it, this was the headquarters of ANBU) she forced her feet to keep moving until she came to the jounin lounge.

Rare kindness and unbearable hate.

And somewhere, in between the two, there was trust.

A boy with freakishly large eyebrows and bowl-cut hair, wearing a strange green bodysuit, caught her as she fell, a boy with bandages on his face taking Naruto from her and placing him on the couch. A boy (Naruto recognized him before, with the hair-stick in his mouth, _a harbinger of bad news_) pulled out a lollipop from his pocket, and stuck it in his mouth to stop his crying.

"Raidou, go see what's going on. Gai, go tell Alpha there's a situation down here," he ordered quietly, voice taut and humming with tension.

Disappearing, he turned to her.

"You're ok now. You're a friend of Hatake's, and he'd kill me if anything happened to you two," he gave them a weak smile around his (as she recognized through her haze of fury and relief) senbon.

"Who' you?" Naruto demanded, sucking his lollipop warily.

"Shiranui Genma, at your service," he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, pulling out the senbon in a hard jerk. Screaming despite herself, she fought back the tears and hiccuped as her body nearly went into shock.

"Sorry about that, I had to make sure you didn't fight me," Genma apologized, tearing off the sleeve of her shirt and quickly wrapping a tight bandage around the wound.

"You're lucky, Kaida-san. It's not too deep, which is surprising if the ANBU after you is who I think it is, and it doesn't appear to be poisoned," he scrutinized the weapon closely.

He was relieved; senbon (ANBU-regulation, anyways) were usually hollow and filled with toxin. He was a fair medic (all ANBU had to be), but not enough to handle that.

"Okaa-san?" Naruto whimpered, taking in her pale, sweaty face that had drained of all color and her shivering body.

Wrapping a blanket around her with startling gentleness, Genma smiled at her.

"Go ahead and get some sleep, Kaida-san. You're safe enough here."

* * *

Cracking the muscles in her back as she stretched, she sighed as she surveyed their new home. It was slightly better than the old one, and it was nice to finally move out of Maito-san's rooms at ANBU H.Q., even though he couldn't have been nicer about it.

Shaking her head, she sighed as she looked out the windows to see, once again, rain. They only had one box of stuff, what the ANBU had been kind enough to buy them (especially the women, who had taken her under their wing, along with quite a few of the males), and she nudged it slightly with her toe.

She realized that she sighed a lot.

Snorting, she rolled her eyes, and looked at a napping Naruto, curled up like a baby fox in his blue blankie, Gama-chan held close to his chest.

Walking over and looking out the window, a black bird appeared. Everything seemed to slow again, her eyes cold as frosted blade.

Without hesitation, she pulled out a gun and shot it, watching its bleeding body fall to the ground. Two ghostly figures appeared, one in an ANBU Bird Mask, the other the Cat, and they picked up the body of the raven, disappearing into the fog.

" _'Quoth the raven, nevermore.' _"

----owari----

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Yay. I survived being shot last night. Long story short: some idiot shot a paintball onto our windshield when mom and I were driving home from POTC: DMC last night around 1:00 a.m. Flagged a policeman, who told us it was a paintball, which makes sense cause it sounded like a freakin' gunshot. Only God's grace had us being one of the only cars on the road (although, this is a somewhat small town, so it's usually quiet at night, but still... sobs my hometown's going to pot...) and my mom's cool head from hitting anything.

**_IF YOU ARE READING THIS (WHICH I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU ARE, CONSIDERING I SERIOUSLY DOUBT YOU EVEN HAVE THE ABILITY TO READ) I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU RECONSIDER YOUR LIFE OPTIONS---PROVIDING YOU STILL HAVE A LIFE AFTER I AM DONE WITH YOU._**

I will be avenged...

-.-

Anyways, as always, all credit goes to my wonderful beta-reader Ashen Rose, authoress of the poem. THANKS!

**_

* * *

Black wings, dark as night;  
Bring forth evils and secret delights.  
Hold on tight to those you hold dear,  
Make sure you keep them very near._**

Vile thoughts are spread on the breeze,  
A disease that will last all eternity.  
Black feathers darkened with blood,  
May bring forth fears in a great torrent of flood.

Hold on tight, don't lose faith,  
Not when you're someone else's saving grace.  
Lose yourself in the heady heat,  
And the breeze will sweep you off your feet.

-----Ashen Rose

****

****

**_Guardian_**

Perched on her back, Naruto giggled in the sunshine. Finally, after the storm had dissipated, she had decided that it was high time to take him on a picnic. Naruto peered over her shoulder to grin foxily at her, and she smiled back.

Kaida was tired; her body was still growing and needing protection itself—taking care of a toddler, and a boy at that, had forced her to mature at an even faster rate than she had been. It was impossible for her to regret her decision—it was against her nature—but it was an undeniably hard life.

"Oi! Okaa-san! Booerfly!" Naruto frantically tugged on her sleeve and pointed at the fluttering, graceful splash of yellow against the gentle green of the meadow.

Smiling, tired but happy, underneath the shade of a willow tree, watching Naruto chase the butterfly around the field, she could admit that she was at peace. No matter her fate, if she lived or died, so long as Naruto could have memories like these to cherish—then any pain or suffering she had to endure would be worth it.

Naruto, suddenly realizing he was being watched, turned around and started running to her. It was then that the scene, like a film strip caught in the wheel, warped and shifted. Flames licked the edges with shrieking tongues, lapping up the world and sucking all the color and life out of it until Kaida and Naruto were left in a dead world of greys. Starting to suck their own lives, their _color, _it grew unbearably hot and they were melting...

She opened her eyes slowly, painfully, and looked up at a dank ceiling encrusted with mold. Sitting up warily, fighting a terrible headache that bordered on concussion-level pain and glancing around to make sure that there was no threat, she wondered why Naruto wasn't here with her.

"Naruto? _NARUTO!"_ she screamed, terrified that she had lost him.

Only her echo answered her. Rising to her feet, her heart pounding in her ears, she grimaced as she explored the corridor that twisted and turned but seemed to basically be heading in only one direction. It was like a maze—and she _hated_ mazes. Her world had been devoured, she was the only survivor, and this was the only place left. It gradually darkened, and a wall of pitch-black night soon loomed over her, though she didn't notice that behind her light had begun to filter through the foggy gloom.

"**_SO THE LITTLE GIRL HAS FINALLY SHOWN HERSELF."_**

Blue eyes the color of a steel-flecked sea calmly watched the huge fox behind the bars.

"**_WHAT DO YOU WANT, BRAT?"_**

She smiled at him, the same smile that she had faced down Sandaime with.

"I? Oh, you would not like what I want," she replied mildly.

"**_I PROBABLY WON'T, BUT I COULD USE A GOOD LAUGH. BESIDES, YOU ARE ONLY ONE CREATURE, A HUMAN AT THAT. WHAT FATE COULD BE WORSE THAN THIS?"_** the massive creature gestured.

"If memory serves me rightly, you the Kyuubi were at constant war against the dragons. And you seem to forget," she gave him a lazy smile, "that I was born in the _year of the dragon_."

She felt a brief hum of power in her veins, a dragon that was much smaller than Kyuubi but several times taller than a man's height coiling behind her, mist enshrouding the two.

She felt Kyuubi recoil, and suddenly screams were echoing in her ears, a rushing sound and everything was going black again...

* * *

She woke up.

"Naruto! Naruto! Shh, shh, lah. It's just a nightmare, little one," she held him close as he sobbed, whispering about demons and fire and--

"It's alright," she pulled him into a fierce hug. Glancing out the windows at the drizzle and the piece of duct-tape covering the hole, she sighed again.

What they needed was...

An _interlude._ Just a chance to rest, in peace, for a little while. Wondering if a clan would take them in, she realized that it was six months today that she had become Naruto's legal guardian. In an effort to reign in her laughter at having him to protect, she lulled him back to sleep, the palm of her hand resting on the seal.

He didn't have nightmares again that night.

After all, who better to fight away the monsters of the night like his okaa-san?

* * *

Chewing on a piece of grass and happily splashing his feet in the stream, Naruto waved to her as she busily washed their few items of clothing, enjoying the break from the rain and gloom. Concentrating on the task at hand, she failed to see Naruto's face grow sad and thoughtful as he saw a kingfisher nab a minnow out of the water, the little fish thrashing about in the throes of death by suffocation.

"Okaa-san... what is it like to die?"

She slipped on a rock and fell into the stream, so shocked was she by the question, though she had been expecting and dreading it.

"It is to slip the bonds of the mortal body, Naruto-kun, and to fly," she answered slowly.

"But we dun' have wings," he pointed out, frowning.

She smiled, a little sadly, and shook her head.

"We all have wings. Sometimes we lose them, sometimes they're broken, but we all have them. It is not until after we die that we realize that our souls are our wings, and since we are all born with one soul, so we are born with one wing. It is only by living for others that we eventually find our other wing, so that after we die we can fly."

"But... what if you die too li'l?" he asked quietly.

Tears stung her eyes.

"Then you realize that of us all, only children are born with both wings. And you pierce the rice-paper thin veil between this world and the next to dance among the stars."

He mulled over the reply for a long while.

"Would Yondaime know? He's the Hokage! Would _he_ be able to tell us better?" he asked, growing more excited at his own idea.

Her face fell.

"Naruto... Yondaime-sama... he... he died."

She managed to keep her voice clear, which was a feat, because the Yondaime so beloved...

"But... he's the _Hokage_! Hokage _can't_ die!" Naruto shouted angrily.

"They are still human, boyo. Still mortal. No... I only wish it were so."

Her sad smile convinced him more than any words ever could.

"Then... Hokage... not... strong?" he struggled to put his emotions into his limited vocabulary.

"No, Naruto-kun—the _strongest_. Yondaime-sama, he died protecting his village, _us_, and defeated the—the terrible demon—and saved us all. He is a hero to be respected!"

Resting his chin on his wet knees and surveying the woods around him with iridescent blue eyes, he sighed.

"Everyone loves Yondaime-sama?" he whispered.

"... yes, Naruto-kun. Very much."

A long, thoughtful silence ensued between the two.

"Then I wanna be Hokage. That way, everyone will love me too."

Turning away so he didn't see her crying, she wiped her eyes and came up behind him, face still suspiciously damp. He noticed, but didn't say anything.

"Then I believe in you, and I know that you'll be the best Hokage ever."

_'Because... because you need it the most.'_

The two headed back at sunset, falling asleep to curses and jeers hurled at them through the walls like rocks through their grimy windows.

_Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can only destroy me._

---owari---

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**** RW, here again. Sorry I haven't posted, but not to worry, there's more chapters I'll probably post today. As usual, all credit goes to Ashen Rose's awesome beta-ing, more angst (ahh... everyone should have an angst fic, it's a wonderful stress relief), and all that's left is for said beta to get back to me on chapter 10. That's right, folks, the other chapters are already _written_! Rejoice!

---silence---

Or weep, you know, whatever floats your boat. As I realized that I have not put a disclaimer for this fic, to hold back the evil lawyer-nins, I declare painfully: Naruto is not mine. Anything in this that is licensed to someone else is, obviously, not mine. The only thing that is MINE is Kaida-chan and the loose plot.

Anyone daring enough to do fanart, I give a go-ahead to (hint, Ashen Rose...) just lemme know so I can squeal myself into oblivion.

----tiredly,

RW

_**

* * *

**_

_**Guardian**_

_These paper wings of mine will not fly_

_I will never see this blackened sky_

_Broken from its star-ironed chains;_

_In this earthen despair I am forced to remain._

_Gravity forces me to reality,_

_Once again trussed from originality._

_As I weep for the joy of flight,_

_Realizing how small is my might,_

_I begin to understand;_

_These paper wings, stained with blood and ink..._

_Are not so steel-heavy as I may think._

_For if the pen is mightier than the sword,_

_And the universe created with a Word--_

_Then these paper wings of mine will bear me yet,_

_To worlds I have never met._

_For paper is the currency of the world, and ink its blood--_

_My paper wings... my heart... my soul... my flood..._

_I stand here unafraid._

She played in the dirt, moving the twig like a doll. Besides her, Kabuto and Orochimaru watched her, one scowling and the other highly amused.

"I see that you are recovering," Orochimaru snickered. Really, he found the entire situation too funny; of all people she should fear most, he was at the top of the list, and yet his right-hand minion, his _spy_, had become her _friend_...

It was really too amusing.

"Yes," she said softly, glancing at him out of those deliciously rebellious eyes. Those eyes were _steel_ in that little-girl face; he was not fooled by eyes like those.

After all, he knew exactly where she had gotten them.

"Someday, little one, you will have nowhere to turn and you will need me. Will you come to me then, I wonder?" he mused.

"I will stand on my own and fight until my death," she replied firmly.

"So saith the tragic martyr," Kabuto muttered.

"He has a point, you know, Kaida-chan. There are few people in this world who could take me on and live—nearly none who I could even seriously consider a threat."

_'Although... there is **him**...'_

"And what would you ask of me?" she arched an eyebrow, voice cool.

"Everything. Sell your soul to the proverbial devil, and I will give you your heart's desires," he smiled wickedly, arms spread widely, his eyes like molten gold.

She was quiet for a long moment, leaning against the trunk of a dead tree and staring into a bleak sky for answers that would never come. Kabuto watched her with a wistfulness and regret that Orochimaru did not fail to catch, and silently filed it away to mull over later.

"But... in losing one's souls, then any other desires are lost as well. It is from our souls that we derive the strength to stand defiant. To lose that... is to lose the will to protect those who are precious to us, because nothing is precious to us anymore. We become wraiths, in a shadow world of aborted dreams and regretful memories, until driven insane into hell. I... would rather die on my own, horribly and alone, than to let down the ones I love most."

He clapped quietly, lips quirked up into a smile.

"So saith our tragic heroine," he smirked.

She blinked, startled, for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

"There is nothing at all _tragic_ about me. The path I have chosen is just that—the path that I _chose_. I have no right, no wish, to complain about a life no one forced upon me."

Kabuto smiled at her, pushing up his glasses, and she answered it witha smileof her own.

"I think Naruto-kun's examination is over. Yakushi will come looking for you soon," he cocked his head, indicating for Kabuto to escort her back to the house.

Following his master's unspoken command without hesitation, he cast him a look that was thoughtful. Orochimaru knew what he was trying to figure out: why was he letting Kaida live, knowing what she did?

It was quite simple: the girl was interesting. When one got to the Sannin's age, one tended to find less and less things (or people) interesting. No, when Kaida ceased to interest him, he would kill her. Or not. He was sure that one day, when her back was up against a wall with nowhere to go, she would come to him.

All she had to give him was Kyuubi.

* * *

She shoved Naruto out of the way, taking the brunt of the jutsu herself. Grabbing his hand and running away from the chuunin, she darted down a back alley, twilight settling itself over the world like a gentle lover.

Huddled behind a dumpster, back bleeding and torn with only bits of flesh barely hanging on over bone in some places, she felt her head spinning in the beginning of shock. Naruto's gulping breaths were barely keeping him from screaming in horror. The world (whether from her injuries or from night falling) was turning black, stars winking at her in misery...

* * *

That was how he found them: a little boy covered in her blood and the stench of filth, sobbing in his sleep and tightly holding onto a stained plush frog, and a girl dying in the dark.

"GET ME A MEDIC-NIN!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, barking out orders, hands shaking. If they lost her... if she died...

Hell to pay did not begin to describe their fate.

"I WANT AN ANBU MEDIC HERE _YESTERDAY_!"

One immediately appeared, Raven Mask. He remembered that the last Raven Mask had mysteriously disappeared, and barely repressed a shudder of horror.

Hands flying through seals, already burning with the bright-blue glow of chakra, he wondered what she—the medic—was thinking of as she fought desperately against time for Kaida's life.

Umino Iruka realized he didn't want to know.

* * *

Miyoko wandered through the empty halls of her family's home lifelessly, eyes dull and hair greying. She felt like she was dead already, yet condemned to remain in the mortal realm.

"My love... my beloved..." she whispered.

She felt a cold wind sweep past her and turned slowly, and gasped. A ghostly figure stood behind her, beckoning, and she felt her heart leap, tears springing to her eyes.

"It's you--!" she whispered joyfully.

Putting a finger to the mouth carved on its mask, she wished with all her might to embrace the man in ANBU uniform before her, ghost or not.

"What is it, my darling? What do you want me to do?"

He cocked his head, spreading out his arms. She smiled, a smile so strange and cold it defied the sun, and nodded.

"Of course..."

Walking over to her rooms, she carefully put on her best kimono and obi, taking the time to brush her black hair until a bit of its former life gleamed in it again. Putting on her makeup, staining her lips scarlet, she looked once again like the woman who had been called the "Flower of Konoha." Smiling at the reflection in the mirror, she brought out a beautiful, ornate obi and a handcarved wooden chair that must have been worth a fortune.

Smiling widely at the apparition, she gently pushed the bench out from under her, the obi tightening around her neck. In her last few moments, her eyes widened in horror; this was not her beloved, this was not the man she lost! Where--!

"Wh—why--" she struggled to ask.

The figure stood there, mute, and somewhere someone was laughing...

When the maid came in, screaming at what she found, her eyes were still black pools of terrified horror forever frozen in the moment of her death.

Whatever the answer to her question, if there ever was one, she kept silent to the grave.

---owari---

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

_**Guardian**_

Terror is the fear not known till your heart sinks below the line of frost, 

Terror is horror unimaginable, 

Terror is that feeling you get that creeps through your blood and immoblilizes you at the very mention of its name. 

Terror is inescapable, 

impossible to fight, 

hard to rise above. 

Terror is there. 

-- 

The fear of those you cannot protect, 

The hate for those who've wounded you, 

The calm before the end. 

Terror is love. 

----Ashen Rose 

She grimaced, avoiding putting weight on her left leg, where a shuriken was embedded in the area of the thigh only a few inches above the knee.

It seemed her entire life was lived by inches.

She grit her teeth, yanking the weapon out, praying it wasn't poisoned (there had been a nasty incident awhile back) and not really caring anymore if it was. Pain, beatings, _death_, didn't terrify her anymore; only a promise failed could rouse her heart to unnatural speed, because then it wasn't about her anymore.

Naruto.

Sighing as she watched him playing on the couch, making airplane noises with Gama and occasionally tossing said plushie into the air, she shook her head.

Taking a few coins, she told him to stay here and lock the door behind her, and she walked off. Heading to a little flower shop, the bell tinkling melodically above her, she walked over to the little girl behind the counter, who was busy arranging flowers somewhat sloppily.

"I'd like a camellia."

The girl looked up, staring at her suspiciously for a moment before hopping off the stool she'd been sitting on and disappearing into the back. Bringing a white flower back after a moment, she refused to hand it to Kaida until she pressed the coins into the little blonde's hands, stepping out into the light mist.

She turned her head up to the sky, feeling like she should cry, but her eyes were dry. Perhaps the air was crying for her, heavy laden with moisture as it was.

The graveyard didn't frighten her. She was quiet as she walked over to a grave and traced the name carved there sadly. Tears pricked her eyes until she blinked them back, face blank but melancholy, like an ANBU mask.

_'Hogosha Miyoko...'_

A year to the day, today, since they'd found her swinging from the ceiling, beautiful but... dead.

She let herself remember...

_

* * *

_

_She stood, dressed in black, at the edge of the crowd, unable to hear the eulogy. She noticed very few people were even crying—Miyoko had been a somewhat solitary figure—and that saddened her. After all, it was said that you could tell how much a person was loved by how many people cried at someone's funeral._

_If that was the case, there were very few people who cared about her mother._

_The fact that Miyoko had abandoned her, literally, in the streets—that she had hated Kaida for as long as either could remember—the half-healed scars on the girl's heart..._

_None of that made any difference to Kaida. With all the tenacity and ferocity of a child's faith, she believed that Miyoko was her mother, and loved her in spite of everything._

"_Okaa-san!" she cried, legs buckling, as she sobbed in the sunshine (was even heaven happy that she was gone?) and ignored the glares of the other mourners._

"_The nerve of the demon-lover, defiling her mother's funeral. Hogosha-san even disowned her before her death, and the little brat's here?" they muttered amongst themselves._

_Running her hand over the photograph that did little justice to Miyoko's haggard, frail beauty, Kaida hiccuped, swallowing her sobs with difficulty._

"_I... I may no longer be your daughter, okaa-san, but you will always be my mother."_

_She had been beaten, again, shortly after and hurled out of the cemetery. She didn't see the pair of eyes watching her thoughtfully, as the owner had disappeared shortly after._

* * *

"My mother... okaa-san..."

She stood from where she'd knelt at the grave, brushing off the graveyard soil, and gave her mother one last, sad smile in the rain.

"...this is goodbye. I will not come here again."

In a voice so soft it was nearly a whisper, she said, "...take care."

She never returned to that grave again.

She would let her mother sleep in peace now.

* * *

As she returned to the apartment, knocking the code Kaida had taught Naruto, he grinned brightly at her, ignoring her tear-streaked face or the fact that her face was bruised now.

"OKAA-SAN! GUESS WHAT! GUESS WHAT! I SAW A BLUEBIRD TODAY! WE'LL BE HAPPY NOW!" he shouted excitedly, jumping up and down before enveloping her in a crushing hug.

Feeling her heart twist, she grabbed him closer to her, sobbing into his golden hair.

_There is power in a dragon's eyes..._

_... and terror in their heart._

----_Book of Dragons, Konoha Ed._

* * *

Things were getting desperate.

She had taken Naruto in a year and a half ago; she was nearly ten and he was almost five, and yet things were still getting worse. Being clanless, as it were, they had no protection.

That needed to change.

Sitting on the kitchen floor, chewing on a pencil, she had written down the clans of Konoha.

_Aburame._ Hmm. They would take them in, she was sure; they knew what it was like to be hated for having a creature (or creatures, as it were) hosted inside of them and were subject to enough ridicule. Still, she disliked making the quiet clan even more hated and/or feared more than it already was, which is what certainly would happen. Aburame Shibi had always been kind to her, in his own way, and she refused to put him in a situation that would compromise the safety of his family.

_Inuzuka. _Now, here was a clan that would be ideal; with their tight bond with their partners, they would understand that Kyuubi was "under Naruto's skin." Looked on to be a brutal, uncivilized clan, they would take them in just for the hell of it; a chance to irritate Konoha in general.

_Nara._ ... They'd be too lazy to argue—or to take them it. Ugh. They were a somewhat difficult clan to figure out. How troublesome.

Quirking into a smile, she realized just how many _good people_ there were here; she was so consumed with protecting Naruto from the evil people, that she sometimes forgot there was goodness here, too.

_Yamanaka._ ... no. Inoshi wouldn't subject his family to that, so that was a no.

_Akamichi._ Probably, but didn't really feel like running from the powerful clan members (and the beating they'd surely deliver) if she was wrong.

_Hyuuga._ ... never. So consumed with intra-clan politics, and being so fanatical about purism, they would never take a clan-less girl in, let alone the Kyuubi-boy.

Ears pricking, she left the list on the floor as she shot over to Naruto, grabbing their "run-pack" and half-shoving him out of the window onto the fire escape.

Climbing as quietly, but quickly, as they could, they slunk from alley to alley. Avoiding, for the most part, all of the usual mob, her mind was clicking away. Motioning for Naruto to climb onto her sore back, Kaida stayed in the shadows that she had come to know intimately, acting like a kunoichi if anyone had bothered to notice.

That was what she got for living in a shinobi village.

Seeing the familiar red and white, she breathed a sigh of relief. Carefully scaling the wall surrounding the compound, pack held tightly between her teeth, she dropped quietly to her feet. Swaying slightly from the impact, she soon regained her balance, and quickly ducked under the porch to avoid a shinobi strolling by the two fugitives.

A stinging cut on her forehead made her mentally sigh, cataloging it with the sprained ribs and aching feet and promptly ignoring it.

This was a huge gamble she was making—if it backfired on her, she would probably die tonight.

"Excuse me, Uchiha-dono, but I must speak with you!" she begged desperately, speaking from the kitchen doorway. Starting in surprise, Sharingan instantly on to see if she was a threat, his shoulders remained tense, regarding her warily.

"Hogosha," he nodded slightly, voice terse.

"Uchiha-dono, I come to you asking—no, _begging—_for help. I am a citizen of Konoha, and as Head of the Police Department, you are required to aid us. I... I plead with you for my child's life. We cannot keep living like this, or else we will die. Please, Uchiha-dono," her desperate eyes, a deep blue in the settling twilight, unnerved him and his family, who had come to see what was wrong.

"Please, _help us._ Think of the power you would have—the _jinchuuriki_ would be under the _Uchiha Clan_! It would be a means for you to test the power, the strength, you have and the influence of your clan on the village. And, for us, if the _Uchiha Clan_ were to take us in, we would be safe. No one would dare," her intense gaze fell on the oldest son, "to raise a hand against us."

Uchiha Fujita was not a rash man. Few members of the Uchiha Clan were, but as he was the Clan Head, he was more cautious than most. This was not a new proposal to him; over a year now, Kaida had dropped hints of needing his help, and he guessed that now he was finally being forced into a decision. Obviously, the girl could take no more.

"I have been aware of this for quite some time. So, while your request is somewhat startling, it is not wholly unexpected."

He frowned, shooting a look over to an impassive Itachi.

"Fujita," his wife murmured, black eyes regarding the two beaten children with motherly compassion. She had been urging him to act, in the long nights that stretched more often between the couple, and had foreseen this even before Fujita had.

"I cannot--"

He was cut off by Itachi, who walked over to her and stared into her eyes. Shuddering slightly, he wondered what was running through his son's brilliant, ruthless mind while Sasuke scowled.

"No one," he murmured in her ear, "has ever come to me for protection. Your eyes... I have never seen eyes like those. They call to me. _You are under my protection._"

Those may have been the words, but the underlying understanding between the two was _"you are mine."_

Fujita and his beautiful wife shared a long, knowing look; she had also predicted that this would happen. Sasuke looked at Itachi and Kaida, confused.

"I dun' like them," he muttered.

"Very well then. You are now honorary members of the Uchiha Clan, under our protection," he sighed heavily, wondering why he felt like he'd signed someone's death certificate, wincing at the thought of what he'd tell the Elders.

"Sit down and eat," she smiled at Kaida and Naruto.

And, as the story goes, that is where everything _really_ started...

---owari---


	8. Chapter 8

_**Guardian**_

There is rage in the heart of every guardian.

It is a cold rage, dormant but encompassing, buried until the last desperation drives it out.

It is a rage that destroys everything in its way.

It is a terrible, all-consuming dragon-fire...

* * *

She waited for him in the gardens; it was night, so late it was early, and breathed in the scents of the flowers. She didn't hear him, or sense him, merely guessed from the stillness that he was here.

"You know why I am here."

"Yes. I do," she replied quietly, eyes like sapphires as the glimmered in the shadows.

"There must be an accord."

"... of course."

Black eyes held her, mesmerizing and drawing her into their depths, unaware her own eyes were doing the same to his.

"You will protect Naruto from all possible harm. You will not harm him physically, emotionally, spiritually, or emotionally, and do nothing that will harm him in the future."

Hercalm, quiet voice was like discussing the weather: polite but flat.

"You don't leave room for any loophole, do you?" he chuckled,the sound dark like chocolate, rich and heady.

She smirked at him, and bowed slightly to let him know she took it as a joke.

Well, partly.

"And what do I get in return for such protection?" he asked, voice quietly probing and eyes suddenly very, very keen.

"You get me," she replied simply, spreading her arms slightly.

Eyes narrowed slightly at that.

"You will be a _'tool'_, something for me to use in _any_ way I wish?" he asked cautiously.

"For Naruto's sake, I would become the devil himself if I had to. Yes. I will do anything you ask of me."

Itachi was silent for a long moment, coming to sit beside her in the dark.

"This is an... interesting... proposition. I do not deny that I am tempted..."

Eyes like knives regarded the girl sitting beside him.

"What can I do to convince you?" she whispered.

He thought for a moment.

"Speak nothing of our agreement to anyone, and seal it in blood."

"Agreed."

He pulled out a kunai, cut both their hands and pressed the wounds together so that their blood mingled and fell onto the grass.

"_Now_ you're an Uchiha," he smiled down at her.

"_Now_ I am _yours_," she corrected him.

The two lingered, silently, for awhile before heading off to their own rooms.

* * *

The first time she was out in public, a week later, she was buying groceries for her and Naruto. They shared a guest room in the massive Uchiha complex, under the close Sharingan eye of Fujita and the even closer eye of Itachi, but she felt more rested than she ever had in her life.

There was an uneasiness, something hidden at the heart of the clan, but so long as it took her in she didn't care and had no intention of finding out.

Only after things were said and done, did she realize that _it_ had found _her_ out instead.

If she had dug a little deeper, seen things sooner, would things have still turned out the way they did?

Still, that was a question that she wasn't even aware of yet—would never even "nightmare", so that is for much later.

She was frightened, walking the streets blatantly as she did, in the sunlight, rather than scurrying in the shadows. She felt like a rat that had suddenly been told it was a pet bird—caged, but protected all the same—and was uncertain of her place now.

"Oi! You! Demon-lover! Get outta here, we don't serve _your_ kind!" a shop-owner sneered, throwing an apple at her that she wasn't fast enough to dodge, her leg still aching a bit.

Grimacing as she bent down to pick up the apple, she froze as a kunai cut through it. She rose slowly, Itachi helping her stand, his eyes frozen pools of black rage.

"The girl and the boy are _mine_. They are under my protection, the protection of the Uchiha Clan," he remembered to add, "and if you hurt them, _I will kill you._"

His voice had dropped but was clear enough that everyone heard him, their faces becoming like the white sheets to cover corpses' faces, and all movement ceased.

"W-why!" someone in the marketplace choked out.

He smirked, an arm casually resting on the hilt of the katana strapped onto the back of his ANBU uniform, and again all stunted movement in the crowd ceased.

"She's _mine._"

As if that was answer enough, and it probably was, the crowd split before the two and she wasn't bothered again.

"Thank you," she murmured, hands still shaky after the incident, body tense and humming with adrenaline.

He gave her a smile that tried to be kind but ended up being merely poisoned.

"I'm upholding my end of our Faustian pledge," he smirked, to all other eyes friendly and open.

He was reminding her, in his own subtle way, of her own end of the deal.

"Tell me what you wish for me to do, and I will do it," she shrugged.

She meant it, too; for Naruto's sake, she would do anything—even if it meant losing her own soul in the process.

Such was the depth of her love.

"I wish for you to accompany me to the Meeting tonight, and take notes. Take them in whatever way you do, and then copy them down for me to—study—over later."

Seeing as it was such an innocent, secretarial task it immediately had her on the defensive, assuming the worst while struggling to believe the best.

Their pact was sealed in _blood—_there was no escaping that.

If he did, his own bloodline—his own Sharingan—would rebel against him.

"I will do as you require of me," she replied quietly.

Their eyes met, neither backing down, and he smiled again, this time a truly happy one that chilled her to the bone.

She had a very bad feeling about tonight.

* * *

It was all boring, really—she was sitting behind Itachi, like a servant to her master, dutifully scribbling notes in her own abbreviated form that was illegible to anyone else who tried to read it (which came in handy quite a few times) and well-nigh forgotten.

"... and that concludes tonight's Meeting, with the exception of the brash action of our beloved Head taking in the _jinchuuriki_ and his _guardian._"

The room fell into a sort of anticipating hush, and all eyes turned to Fujita though all _senses_ were attuned to Itachi.

The Uchiha Clan, it seemed, was taking no chances.

"... my clansmen, you understand the prestige that we have gained. The _Kyuubi_, under our direct influence and control! We have braved what no one else in the village _dared_ to do!"

"Probably for very good reason!" a man snorted.

Fujita, studiously ignoring him, continued on.

"We have a duty, not only to see our clan rise in the ranks to all of the power and glory it so richly deserves, but also to the civilians of this village, and this girl is an orphan abandoned by the very people who should have taken her in. She has taken on a huge burden, and done... admirably... but it is time that she steps down and _we_ take over that role."

At those words, Kaida bristled, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

Her gut was telling her that things were going very, very wrong.

"But none of us have any _time_ to take a boy-child in who's not one of _us_!" another man argued, all too willing to point out that _he_ had _four_ children of his own to provide for.

As if that was the cue they had all been waiting for, arguments swept through the members of the arguably most powerful clan in Konoha with frightening speed and vehemence.

"... excuse me."

Itachi shot her an unreadable look, but raised no hand to indicate for her to stop.

All the voices ceased that the audacity of the girl to actually address them.

"In coming to your glorious clan for protection, I did not mean to give up my duty as Naruto's guardian. I still remain in that role, and will forever. I did not intend for any other to take over this task, nor will I ever lay it aside. All I ask is for protection from the unthinking masses, and I will try to be as little of a burden as possible," she stated softly, voice smooth like silk.

Itachi mentally applauded her; it was just enough firmness, masked in a deft touch, that the members would not stand before her—or against her.

"Well! It seems that our initial role is somewhat smaller than we were led to believe," a man all but accused Fujita of lying to them.

"It seems," he smiled mildly at her, irritated for having his plans sidetracked and relieved that they were already accepting his decision, "that I have been overruled."

She bowed, deep and respectful, and again melded back into the shadows to be forgotten.

No one ever mentioned taking guardianship away from her again.

_Later, she would wonder why Itachi had sent her before the Meeting was over. It never occurred to her that if she had seen what happened after the official business that she would have been terrified. She merely assumed that it was sensitive shinobi affairs and tried to forget it. But it lingered, in the back of her mind like a scent of death, and she found herself holding Naruto tightly to herself that night as she vainly struggled to sleep._

----owari----


	9. Chapter 9

**** Yay. Last chappie uploaded. Go me. All credit goes to Ashen Rose's beta-ing, insight, and dissection of each chapter that makes me itch to write another one just to read her comments. To all who've put up with me, your support is what keeps me going and I appreciate it more than words can never express. Here's to angst!Naruto-verse.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Guardian**_

Perhaps it was hopeless from the start.

Perhaps it was doomed, destined, to fail. If it had succeeded—if the dream had lasted—then things would not have happened that should have happened, if only to change a fate too sad to be destiny for so many.

But, like most dreams, it was beautiful while it lasted.

* * *

She did not know this when she woke up that morning, of course—she knew merely that it was time to walk Naruto to school (after forcing him into something other than neon orange), so he could actually _eat_ breakfast instead of _inhaling_ it like he usually did.

He adored kindergarten; even though he was constantly lectured by the teachers when he made a mistake (and he made more than his fair share of them) so as not to rouse Itachi's considerable wrath, and the other students teased him mercilessly, he thrived on the attention.

"Okaa-saaaaan!" he drew it out excitedly, giving her a huge hug like he did every morning.

Two blissful months of peace had passed without incident, leaving Kaida at peace with her life and glad that Naruto had blossomed. Things between her and Itachi had fallen into a comfortable routine; he more or less left her to her own affairs, only making an appearance in public with her when he felt like his possession was being threatened.

They saw each other many times a day, of course, and would sit outside together late at night and talk. He was brilliant, she was not surprised at that, but he was also struck by her own profound depth that he desperately needed.

"I believe that one day shinobi will become unnecessary," she said quietly during one of their talks.

"Indeed?" he arched an eyebrow at this.

"Of course. It is the only possible future this world has. Shinobi are tools, used without thought or hesitation, ruthless and remorseless before even out of diapers. If a shinobi is feared, then it is good—few people are willing to... aggressively... seek dominance of his village. If a shinobi is not feared, then that is also well—he becomes _likable_, better able to work and keep friendship with other tools. So, in his own way, he also uses his village without thought and hesitation. It is a terrible thing to be... unnecessary. But it is what I hope for. For shinobi to be obsolete is a frightening thing, to be sure: but it is the only way in which this world will survive, I fear."

"And how do you arrive to such an extreme belief?"

"Think about it: jutsu are getting more and more powerful. One day, there will be two—or even just one—jutsu too powerful for this world to contain and it will destroy itself. However, if that is not the case, and technology grows more and more preeminent as it should, and bloodlines eventually grow so diluted that there is nothing left—as is already happening—then there is yet hope for a future for this world. For if there is no more need for shinobi... if shinobi—_nindo—_indeed become cast aside... then there will be a chance—just a chance—that children will no longer need to be murderers."

They were silent for a long moment, each deep in their own speculations.

"Then all the more reason to be the most powerful _now._ If one can do that when it is still the age where shinobi reign supreme, then your name will be secured for eternity."

Kaida exhaled slowly, shaking her head gently.

"Then more the fool you, because with a greater power comes a greater responsibility to murder in your world. It is enough for me to keep my hands clean of blood for as long as possible."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, watching how the moonlight illuminated her.

"And do you really believe that you are not as bad as we shinobi? You, who have sold yourself to the devil for his protection? What makes you any different from us?" he sneered slightly, condescending, irritated at her superior attitude.

She lapsed into silence for a long moment.

"Nothing. And that is why I wish even more heartily, deeply, that people like myself someday become unnecessary."

As she stood up, face sad and resigned but still chiseled with a will of adamant, she was beautiful. His mind taking leave of him, seeing only her bathed in the moonlight so that it was almost like _she_ was the one radiating it, he kissed her.

It was not a gentle kiss—she didn't expect something that he couldn't give. Nor was it unduly painful—merely hard like him and unyielding like her.

Being so young, both ten, it was so childishly done it could barely even be called a half-decent kiss, certainly not by adult standards.

And yet...

She stood there staring at him, eyes wide and shocked, and even he seemed startled by his actions for a moment before his gaze grew warm as it lingered on her.

"You are mine, little bird," he whispered into her ear as he passed by her, "and I intend to keep what is mine."

She should have objected, but there was nothing to argue against: she _was_ his, and would be perjured if she futilely attempted to deny it. In doing so, arguing against the claim Itachi had on her , she also argued against his protection—and that was deadly.

For if she denied it, he could declare their accord null and void, or worse that she had violated it. And she couldn't face the world alone again, Naruto a child still, after having a taste of _home_.

No. She was Itachi's—let the world know it, shout it from the treetops, and let her be damned so her most precious person could have a family, and a safe home.

* * *

"Ano sa! Ano sa!" a five-year-old Naruto bounced around happily, coming to peer at a girl in the corner. She had pretty pink hair, like a rose, that fell over her overly-large forehead, and was sobbing her little heart out.

"Wh-what's wrong, pretty girl-chan?" he knelt down in front of her.

"J-just go a-away," she hiccuped, "I know you're here just to m-make f-fun of me!" she bawled, and curled up as if trying to disappear into herself.

Naruto's eyes saddened for a moment, and he gently lifted her head up.

"But—but pretty girl-chan... I think you're _boo'ful_," he said softly.

Tear-filled green eyes looked wide-eyed at him, before she promptly smacked him in the head.

"OW! PRETTY GIRL-CHAAAAN!" he whined.

"My name is _Sakura_, and stop teasing me!"

"But—I'm _not_!" Naruto replied, horrified.

Sakura glared at him, peering up close in his eyes.

"I guess you're not. Well... then... _thank you_."

Her voice growing to a soft whisper, she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead before running off, giggling. Naruto, staring at her flabbergasted, did not see the weird dark girl watching him with shy white eyes...

* * *

"Did you have a nice day at school, Naruto-kun?" Kaida asked as she helped the Lady Uchiha, as she had come to lovingly call her, prepare dinner.

"Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I saw a pretty girl with pink hair and she was crying and I asked her what was wrong and she said to go away because I'd just make fun of her—_never! She's too pretty!_--and I said so and she hit me on the head—she's got a _punch_, okaa-san!--and I said "ow"--even though it didn't hurt me that much 'cause I'm so tuff—and I asked why she'd hit me and she said I was too making fun of her and I said nuh-uh and my good looks musta con-con-co—told her that and then _she kissed me!"_

All of this was said, remarkably, in one breath.

Whether that is a side-effect of being a jinchuuriki or just the strange ability of all five year olds, the world will never know.

Blinking, her brain trying to catch up, she smiled as the last part of the entirely too long sentence (she'd need to work with him on grammar later) and winked at him.

"So, Naruto-kun, you're already a lady-killer, eh?" Lady Uchiha giggled.

Naruto's mouth dropped.

"_I do not kill girls!_" he shouted.

Kaida snickered.

"N—Naruto-kun," she gasped, "that's just an expression to say that girls like you."

"Oh."

His face scrunched up, considering it, and he grinned a foxy-grin.

"You mean," he grew sly, "like they all giggle over _Sasuke-­_idiot?"

The Uchiha family stared at him, Fujita raising an eyebrow and Itachi smirked.

"Undoubtedly, _foolish little brother_ has acquired the somewhat... infamous admirers of the Uchiha men," he managed to keep his face straight.

"Oh, dear," Fujita sighed.

"How sweet!" Lady Uchiha giggled, face lighting up so that she looked more like a schoolgirl than a mother of four—at the moment.

Dinner passed by comfortably, mostly in silence broken only by the sporadic fights between Naruto and Sasuke that ended up in a handful of food (preferable bean paste, if someone wasn't quick enough to move it out of the way) in someone's hair and the two generally being banned from dessert.

Kaida let Lady Uchiha take care of Sasuke, as she had her hands full with Naruto. Itachi and Fujita looked on with amusement until they both ended up with rice and tofu, respectively, falling off their heads, Fujita made the decision that if they had _that_ much energy they could put it to good use and bring in some firewood.

Grumbling, it soon turned into a competition between the two to see who could bring in the most, each coming up with... creative ways to hinder the other.

"Don't you think it's a little much, dear, for them to gather firewood by themselves?" Lady Uchiha asked worriedly, itching for an excuse to go to the kitchen and check on them.

"Nonsense. They'll be in our hair," here a rather larger clump of tofu fell off and he winced, "_literally_, unless given something constructive to do with all of that energy."

"I suppose you're right," she replied reluctantly.

They were silent around the low table until the boys' screams pierced through the air like a knife.

---owari---


End file.
